


The Aftereffects of Sustained Sarcophagus Usage

by Halrloprillalar (prillalar)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 04:12:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8189375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prillalar/pseuds/Halrloprillalar
Summary: Missing scene from "Need" (S2). Daniel wants. Daniel gets.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written 2004 for the Jack/Daniel ficathon.

Jack was tired. He was tired and sore and the dirt was so ground into his skin that twenty minutes in a hot shower had only washed the crust of it away. He was in the infirmary being poked and prodded and told that he was tired and sore and he should take it easy for a while.

He wasn't looking at Daniel, who was sitting on a table across from him, grinning, kicking his heels, and not looking tired and sore and dirty at all.

Frasier slapped her cold stethoscope on Jack's chest. "Cough."

"Black Lung?" Jack said. "I've heard that you can get that when you're forced to _work in a mine_." Since he wasn't looking at Daniel, he couldn't tell if that fatuous grin had wavered at all. Probably not, though, the bastard.

"You'll be fine," Fraiser said. "You're exhausted and bruised, but there's no permanent damage. You know," she continued, as he did up his shirt. "That was a pretty traumatic experience. I'd recommend some counselling for you."

"No thanks." Jeez, if he had to have counselling every time he was enslaved -- well, hopefully he wouldn't be enslaved again. At least not more than once or twice, anyhow. Damn Stargate.

"Well, you at least need some time off work. Take a week. That" -- Frasier held up her hand to stop Jack from speaking -- "is mandatory. Starting now."

"Fine by me," Jack said. "I'll just go home, where I won't be shackled or beaten or starved. Maybe I'll rent a movie." And off he went, still not looking at Daniel even though Daniel was clearly looking at him.

At home, Jack ordered a very large pizza with everything he could think of on it and took another shower while he waited for it to arrive. Then he sat on the couch, eating, drinking beer, watching a hockey game he'd taped while they were off-world. Who needed counselling when there were professional sports?

When the doorbell rang, he ignored it. When it rang again, he swore and pulled himself to his feet, then wished he hadn't when his muscles screamed at him. "Shut up," he muttered and went to the door.

It was Daniel. "Jack!" he said, flashing that same stupid smile, and was inside before Jack thought to block the way.

"What do you want?" Jack said and tried to communicate that Daniel should just turn around and leave because Jack really didn't want to see him right now, what with that whole slavery thing and all.

"I was worried about you," Daniel said, either completely oblivious to Jack's hostile body language or deliberately ignoring it. "So I decided to stop by." He draped his jacket over a chair.

"I'm fine," Jack said. "Thank you for asking, your highness." He considered hitting Daniel over the head with a vase but just crossed his arms over his chest instead. It hurt but he manfully didn't wince.

"Oh, about that," Daniel said. "It was just the best way to get the job done. You get an opportunity, you take it. You get some power, you use it. I had everything under control."

"Sure," Jack said and picked up Daniel's jacket to hand to him. But Daniel was out of the hall and into the living room and Jack felt stupid just standing there with it. He dropped it and followed Daniel.

"Did it bother you?" Daniel wheeled around to face Jack.

"Oh, not _that_ much," Jack said. "Always happy to be enslaved as long as there's a good reason."

"Let me make it up to you, Jack." Daniel wasn't smirking for a change, but the serious look on his face seemed a lot more worrisome, given his fucked-up mental state. Why had they even let Daniel out of the SGC? It occurred to Jack that maybe they hadn't actually let him go and that Jack should call in and check.

"You can send me a muffin basket." Jack couldn't make the call from here, but there was another phone in the bedroom. "Grab a beer, sit down, I'll be right back."

But Daniel stepped up to Jack, right there in Jack's very own personal space, and put his hand right on Jack's very own personal neck. Daniel's hand felt a lot warmer than Jack thought it ought to. Without his glasses, Daniel's eyes were a lot more intense than Jack was used to too, though probably part of that was sarcophagus mojo.

"It's fine," Jack said and stepped back, but Daniel moved with him and somehow took two steps for Jack's one so that he was close enough that Jack could smell the coffee on Daniel's breath. Like Daniel needed yet another stimulant.

"Come on, Jack," Daniel said and his voice was just as intense as his eyes. "Why shouldn't we take what we want?" And then Daniel kissed him.

It took a moment for Jack to actually believe what was happening. But it was true -- Daniel's mouth was pressed to Jack's and his eyes were closed and his arm snaked around Jack's waist and hugged him.

Jack stepped back again, this time more forcefully. He had to stay calm here, and keep Daniel calm too, until he could make the call and get them to take Daniel back to the SGC. But that didn't mean he had to let Daniel _kiss_ him.

"Daniel--" he said and searched for something that would come across as "stay the hell away from me" but in a calming and non-threatening way. But while he was thinking about it, Daniel grabbed him and pushed him down on the couch.

On pretty much any other day, Jack would have been more than a match for Daniel. After all, he was a top-notch soldier, trained in hand-to-hand combat, with the wiry strength of a man half his age and the quick reflexes of a cat. But Jack was coming off a couple weeks of forced labour and starvation, not to mention two beers, while Daniel was fresh with feasting and caffeine and Goa'uld super-powers. So Jack didn't feel his masculinity was particularly threatened by being overpowered by Daniel.

Being groped by him was an entirely different matter.

Jack was flat on his back on the couch and Daniel was stretched out on top of him. The remote control was digging into Jack's right buttcheek and Daniel was squeezing the left one. Daniel's body was heavy and hot and his mouth was over Jack's again, his tongue pushing at Jack's lips.

"Mmmfurmph", said Jack, which meant "Get the hell off me." Oh fuck, said Jack's brain, which meant "oh fuck". Aaaaargh, said Jack's muscles, which meant "goddamn, this hurts". Woo hoo! said Jack's libido and made Jack wrap his arms around Daniel and kiss him back.

Nobody was more surprised by that than Jack. No matter how he tried to rationalize it, which he spent a lot of time doing later, excuses like his weakened condition and Daniel's altered state of mind couldn't explain away the fact that not only was Jack being ravished by Daniel Jackson, he was, like a heroine in a bodice-ripper, _enjoying_ it.

Ten minutes later, Jack was still kissing Daniel, was still being groped, was still enjoying it. Daniel's hair was falling all over Jack's face. Jack pawed at Daniel's back, pulled at his shirt, got his hands underneath onto the hot skin. The hockey game was still on and Jack could hear the horn blow as someone scored.

Things became a little hazy after that. Eventually a shrill sound penetrated the haze and Jack realised the phone was ringing. His brain seized the chance and let him know he really ought to go answer it. In the other room, preferably.

Jack pulled away as best he could. "Phone," he said and tried to slide out from under Daniel.

"Leave it," Daniel said and sucked at that indented spot on Jack's neck that probably had some fancy name which Jack didn't know.

Jack was tempted to leave it, after that. But pleasurable as this was, he had to get Daniel some help; anyway, this was far too much like seducing someone who was drunk. "There could be something wrong," Jack said. "Maybe it's Carter or Teal'c."

Daniel gave Jack another one of those intense looks but he manoeuvred himself off and sat up, looking thoroughly rumpled and desireable.

Oh god, Jack thought, and went into the bedroom to answer the phone.

It was, unsurprisingly and thankfully, the SGC, looking for Daniel, who had slipped out when someone's back was turned. Jack assured them that everything was fine, but that they should probably come pick Daniel up ASAP.

Jack caught sight of himself in the mirror: he was just as rumpled as Daniel. His shirt was half undone and his face was red from scraping against Daniel's stubble. Jack scowled at himself and buttoned his shirt back up before he went back out.

Then, hating himself, he took a deep breath, sat down on the couch, and made out with Daniel until the doorbell rang.

Daniel yelled at Jack as they took him. Jack looked away. He didn't want to see Daniel's face.

When they were gone, Jack went to bed and stared at the ceiling until he finally fell asleep. He didn't know who had won the hockey game.

The next day, Jack went into the SGC, orders or no orders, and nobody told him to go back home. Daniel was in massive withdrawal and he got a lot worse before he got better. Jack was the one who chased him down, talked him down, held him as he broke down.

After it was all over, Daniel said he didn't remember anything about what he'd done, which was fine with Jack. But sometimes when Jack wasn't looking at Daniel, he saw that Daniel wasn't looking at him either.

Life went on.


End file.
